Office transport is quite common in Sri Lanka, especially now since it’s not safe taking public transport unless of course you want to lose an arm or a leg and if you’re lucky maybe your life. So to avoid my untimely death or lack of functioning body parts I choose to travel in a van with a driver and myriad’s of other people. While writing this I just realised that I wouldn’t want to die in an accident and I most definitely don’t want to die in India. Okay back to the story… There are certain things about the physical appearance of my van that I need to bring to your attention. It’s WHITE (for all Sri Lankans, this probably means “run for your life) it’s uncomfortable because there’s hardly leg space and the driver constantly yaps throughout the journey. In most vans the driver doesn’t communicate with the folks behind the driver’s seat but in my van the driver is the complete opposite. He talks and talks, then jabbers then talks, then lies. He insists on talking in English even though his choice of words are nothing but hilarious. One day he told us that his sister in law was “impregnated”. Then another day he told us that his friend who met with an accident “had arms and legs that was not repairable”.
My van also has a couple of other looney tunes. There’s Mrs. Always Late, Mrs. Talk A lot and Miss Nosy Parker.
Mrs. Always Late has her own way of doing things and she insists that we pamper her. She takes her own time to make it downstairs from her 3 storey apartment, then waddles to the van then takes an additional 15 minutes to waddle her way up the front seat. After she gets in, she changes the radio channel without prior consultation with the others. I can’t be bothered anymore so I listen to my I pod. Then usually after work she goes shopping and insists that the van pick her after she’s finished to waddle back with her fat ass. Or she keeps us waiting till she finishes work. After a month of putting up with her nonsense I told the driver that this has got to stop. So after severe warnings she has decided to make her waddles quick.
Mrs. Talk A Lot is nice, the problem with her is that she has an annoying voice and wants to have random chit chats.
Miss. Nosy Parker is 40 and unmarried. She has a slight tingling for the driver. He likes the attention. We’d like it if they work up a relationship simply because she’s far too interested in our lives. She wants to know whom you went home with, who that guy is, what he does, what your mother does and whole lot of other crap. So I lie. So far I’ve told her that I’m married, living with my parents, my husband’s abroad and I’m having an affair. She’s shocked beyond belief. You’d think due to our conservative nature that she would be scandalised and stop with her snooping or she’d run along and complain to my parents but instead she still keeps asking. Today it was about my weight or the lack of it. I’ve decided putting another strategy into effect. Ask her why she’s not married and maybe suggest that a husband might not be a bad thing for her.